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likes pretty things； but he's got guts underneath that。 If all this
is true Ralph sure ought to be a real strong one when he's old
enough to get around。 Even though he's just seventeen months
old I can read something hard and tough in that Ralph's face
already。
'
Ralph looked around because he knew he was being talked
about。 Spareribs sat down on the ground and grabbed Ralph's
hat off his head and shook it in his face to tease him。
'AH right！' Mick said。 'You know what 111 do to you if you
start him to cry。 You just better watch out'
Everything was quiet。 The sun was behind the roofs of the
houses and the sky in the west was purple and pink。 On the
next block there was the sound of kids skating。 Bubber leaned
up against a tree and he seemed to be dreaming about
something。 The smell of supper came out of the house and it
would be time to eat soon。
'Lookit；' Bubber said suddenly。 'Here comes Baby again。 She
sure is pretty in the pink costume。
'
Baby walked toward them slowly。 She had been given a prize
box of popcorn candy and was reaching in the box for the
prize。 She walked in that same prissy； dainty way。 You could
tell that she knew they were all looking at her。
'Please； Baby' Bubber said when she started to
pass them。 'Lemme see your little pink pocketbook and touch
your pink costume。
'
Baby started humming a song to herself and did not listen。 She
passed by without letting Bubber play with her。 She only
ducked her head and grinned at him a little。
Bubber still had the big rifle up to his shoulder。 He made
a
loud pow sound and pretended like he had shot Then he called
to Baby again—in a soft； sad voice like he142
was calling a little kitty。 'Please； Baby—come here；
Baby
'
He was too quick for Mick to stop him。 She had just seen his
hand on the trigger when there was the terrible ping of the
gun。 Baby crumpled down to the sidewalk。 It was like she was
nailed to the steps and couldn't move or scream。 Spareribs had
his arm up over his head。
Bubber was the only one that didn't realize。 'Get up； Baby；' he
hollered。 'I ain't mad with you。'
It all happened in a second。 The three of them reached Baby at
the same time。 She lay crumpled down on the dirty sidewalk。
Her skirt was over her head； showing her pink panties and her
little white legs。 Her hands were open—in one there was the
prize from the candy and in the other the pocketbook。 There
was blood all over her hair ribbon and the top of her yellow
curls。 She was shot in the head and her face was turned down
toward the ground。
So much happened in a second。 Bubber screamed and dropped
the gun and ran。 She stood with her hands up to her face and
screamed too。 Then there were many people。 Her Dad was the
first to get there。 He carried Baby into the house。
'She's dead；' said Spareribs。 'She's shot through the eyes。 I seen
her face。'
Mick walked up and down the sidewalk； and her tongue stuck
in her mouth when she tried to ask was Baby killed。 Mrs。
Wilson came running down the block from the beauty parlor
where she worked。 She went into the house and came back out
again。 She walked up and down in the street； crying and
pulling a ring on and off her finger。 Then the ambulance came
and the doctor went in to Baby。 Mick followed him。 Baby was
lying on the bed in the front room。 The house was quiet as a
church。
Baby looked like a pretty little doll on the bed。 Except for the
blood she did not seem hurt。 The doctor bent over and looked
at her head。 After he finished they took Baby out on a
stretcher。 Mrs。 Wilson and her Dad got into the ambulance
with her。
The house was still quiet。 Everybody had forgotten about
Bubber。 He was nowhere around。 An hour passed。 Her Mama
and Hazel and Etta and all the boarders waited in the front
room。 Mister Singer stood in the doorway。
After a long time her Dad came home。 He said Baby wouldn't
die but that her skull was fractured。 He asked for Bubber。
Nobody knew where he was。 It was dark outside。 They called
Bubber in the back yard and in the street。 They sent Spareribs
and some other boys out to hunt for him。 It looked like Bubber
had gone clear out of the neighborhood。 Harry went around to
a house where they thought he might be。
Her Dad walked up and down the front porch。 'I never have
whipped any of my kids yet；' he kept saying。 'I never believed
in it。 But I'm sure going to lay it onto that kid as soon as I get
my hands on him。'
Mick sat on the banisters and watched down the dark street。 'I
can manage Bubber。 Once he comes back I can take care of
him all right。'
'You go out and hunt for him。 You can find him better than
anybody else。'
As soon as her Dad said that she suddenly knew where Bubber
was。 In the back yard there was a big oak and in the summer
they had built a tree house。 They had hauled a big box up in
this oak； and Bubber used to love to sit up in the tree house by
himself。 Mick left the family and the boarders on the front
porch and walked back through the alley of the dark yard。
She stood for a minute by the trunk of the tree。 'Bubber—；' she
said quietly。 'It's Mick。'
He didn't answer； but she knew he was there。 It was like she
could smell him。 She swung up on the lowest branch and
climbed slowly。 She was really mad with that kid and would
have to teach him a lesson。 When she reached the tree house
she spoke to him again—and still there wasn't any answer。 She
climbed into the big box and felt around the edges。 At last she
touched him。 He was scrounged up in a corner and his legs
were trembling。 He had been holding his breath； and when she
touched him the sobs and the breath came out all at once。
'I—I didn't mean Baby to fall。 She was just so little and cute—
seemed to me like I just had to take a pop at her。'
Mick sat down on the floor of the tree house。 'Baby's dead；'
she said。 They got a lot of people hunting for you。'
Bubber quit crying。 He was very quiet。
*You know what Dad's doing in the house？'144
It was like she could hear Bubber listening。
'You know Warden Lawes—you heard him over the radio。
And you know Sing Sing。 Well； our Dad's writing a1 letter to
Warden Lawes for him to be a little bit kind to you when they
catch you and send you to Sing Sing。'
The words were so awful…sounding in the dark that a shiver
came over her。 She could feel Bubber trembling。
'They got little electric chairs there—just your size。 And when
they turn on the juice you just fry up like a piece of burnt
bacon。 Then you go to Hell。'
Bubber was squeezed up in the corner and there was not a
sound from him。 She climbed over the edge of the box to get
down。 'You better stay up here because they got policemen
guarding the yard。 Maybe in a few days I can bring vou
something to eat'
Mick leaned against the trunk of the oak tree。 That would
teach Bubber all right。 She had always managed him and she
knew more about that kid than anybody else。 Once； about a
year or two ago； he was always wanting to stop off behind
bushes and pee and play with himself awhile。 She had caught
on to that pretty quick。 She gave him a g